Voice of Desirae
by Nova-chan
Summary: Malcolm goes to meet his daughter he left when she was three. Desirae, a mute girl tries to accept her father's past when they are stranded on a familiar island.
1. Scratch the Surface

Voice of Desirae  
  
By NoV  
  
**  
  
He had regrettably received the phone call last night. At around 3 o'clock. The voice of his ex-wife telling him that his daughter was in trouble. That he had to visit her.  
  
Now, Ian Malcolm, a man whose intellect on math, in particular chaos theory, had given him his own claim to fame, the Malcolm Effect, was climbing up the staircase of an old apartment building in the worst neighborhood he had ever seen.  
  
Tentatively, he searched for a doorbell, and, not finding one, knocked on the frail, cracked wooden door.  
  
The sound of locks being turned and undone preceded the slow creaking open of the door. He met the gaze of an attractive blonde woman in her late- thirties.  
  
"Hi, Rachel," he said.  
  
"What took you so long to get here?" she said, widening the door for him to come in.  
  
**  
  
She led him down a narrow corridor, dirty clothes and magazines lining the floor. He carefully avoided stepping on any of the items littering the worn carpet.  
  
"She's in there," Rachel said, tapping a door at the end of the hallway. "And she can't wait to meet you." She walked back the way she had come, not looking back at Malcolm once.  
  
Sighing, he knocked on the door sharply. "Uh, Desirae? Can I come in?" No answer. He slowly pushed the door open.  
  
He gaped in awe at the room before him. Unlike the rest of the apartment, Desirae's room was tidy and well-organized. She had a computer on a wooden desk playing a music video she had downloaded. A neat stack of books sat beside a blue mesh backpack. Her closet was straight and neat, with no clothes or hanging falling off of the metal pole they rested on.  
  
Slowly, his gaze went over to Desirae herself, sitting solemnly on her made- up bed.  
  
"Um, hi," he said, cautiously. "I don't know if you remember, but....I'm you're dad.'  
  
Desirae was a brilliant girl, sixteen years old. She had straight hair that went down to her shoulders. She looked at Dr. Malcolm with apprehension and motioned hitting her head with her fist. She got up off the bed, and walked past him into the next room, smiling the whole way.  
  
He followed her into the bathroom across the hall, where she was turning the knobs on the shower.  
  
"I know you've probably been in the dark about me for a long time, but, I'll answer any questions you have," he offered.  
  
Desirae looked back at him, the smile still in place, and began to pull off her green t-shirt. She tossed it aside, hitting Malcolm in the face with it. A few moments later, she was behind the curtain of the shower, the warm water dripping down her neck and arms.  
  
"My daughter," Malcolm said, "the nudist."  
  
She poked her head out of the curtain, and, smiling, patted her cheek. Then, she had disappeared again behind the peach-colored curtain. 


	2. Mute

Voice of Desirae: Part 2  
  
NoV: Hey! Sorry it took me so long to update. I got a new computer, and you know how that is, so.....  
  
Bisho: I like chocolate.  
  
NoV: Yes, of course you do, darling. ^_^ Anyway, here's the ficcie! PART 2! YAY!  
  
** Malcolm traipsed gingerly back into the living room, stepping cautiously over a pile of dirty blue jeans. Rachel sat on the couch, ignoring him as she buffed her light pink fingernails.  
  
Malcolm sat opposite her in a green recliner, having to first remove a dirty sock from the chair.  
  
"So," he said, folding his hands across his knee, thoughtfully, "she seems healthy. No life-threatening diseases, no extreme dismemberments, not even a terribly challenging science project. So, please tell me: why the hell did you make me come all the way out here?"  
  
Rachel refused to look up and him and continued to rub her nails. "I've raised her alone all these years. It's your turn to take her for thirteen years."  
  
"It's not my fault you decided to kick me out," he said, glancing up at a picture of two plump cats staring into a mouse hole. "When you decide to force a person out of your life, that's the same as taking responsibility for everything you're left with." He paused when she didn't say anything. "And why didn't you tell me she was deaf? You just sent me in there, not even giving me—"  
  
"She's not deaf, you dumb ass," Rachel said, suddenly looking at him straight in the eyes. "She's mute."  
  
"Well, excuse me," Malcolm said, waving his hand in the air. "You still should have told me something.....by the way, what does it mean when she pats her cheek, like this?" He made the same gesture Desirae had when she had peeked out of the shower.  
  
"That's what she does when she wants to laugh," Rachel replied, going back to polishing her fingernails.  
  
"And when she does this?" he asked. He motioned hitting his head with his fist, just as his daughter had done when he had first walked into her room.  
  
"That's the signal she uses for 'Dad'," she said, with a smirk. "Hitting herself in the head is the perfect way to show someone how she feels about her paternal parent." Malcolm didn't respond. He simply held his head in his hands, and sighed.  
  
Rachel put her nail kit away and sat up on the couch. She pulled her strapless top up, since it was falling down, exposing more of her cleavage than was comfortable. "Look. The least you can do for your daughter is take her out for lunch. You owe her that much. At least try to get to know her."  
  
He looked up at her, cocking an eyebrow. "Why did she take off her clothes, and hop in the shower, while I was standing there, trying to talk to her?" he asked.  
  
Rachel laughed. "She's probably mad at you. Did that to one of my boyfriends before."  
  
"This is ridiculous!" Malcolm cried. "I don't even know her! I didn't even know you when.....you know. And now, you just expect us to have a relationship? And I don't know sign language," he said, seriously.  
  
Rachel gazed at him, genuinely. "Neither does she."  
  
**  
  
NoV: Yay! Part 2 is complete! Part 3 will be up in a much shorter time! Promise!  
  
Bisho: I like seafood!  
  
NoV: Of course, sweetness. 


	3. Driving in Your Car

Voice of Desirae: Part 3  
  
NoV: Toldja I'd update quicker this time!  
  
Desirae: *pokes her nose*  
  
NoV: Oh, of course not, sweetie. I'd never let you get eaten by trolls.  
  
Desirae: (raises an eyebrow)  
  
**  
  
Malcolm approached Desirae's bedroom once again. He knocked on her door, noticing a big sticker that simply said, "Caution."  
  
Receiving no answer, he said, "Desirae? Uh, it's me. Can I come in?" As he began to turn the knob, he heard footsteps pounding toward the door, and a sudden weight pushed against it, forcing it closed. "Okay," he said, understanding. "I'll wait a minute." The pressure on the door ceased. "Kind of a strange time to get bashful, though, isn't it?"  
  
Malcolm heard the rustling of clothes, and soon the door was opened, to reveal Desirae standing behind it, wearing a long blue skirt and a ruffly white blouse.  
  
"Well," Malcolm said, strangely," I wanted to say goodbye before I left. It'll probably be awhile before I see you again, and...."  
  
Desirae looked heartbroken. She held up her black purse, and pointed at her feet, to show that she was wearing boots. She reached over and patted his neck, resolutely.  
  
Malcolm, suddenly grasping what she was trying to tell him, said, "Your mom told you I would take you out for lunch, didn't she?"  
  
Desirae nodded, her eyes big and sad.  
  
Malcolm sighed. "Let's go."  
  
**  
  
Ian Malcolm and Desirae walked out of the apartment building and approached his car. Unbeknownst to Malcolm, Desirae's eyes had lit up as soon as she saw his sporty red convertible. When he pulled his keys out of his pocket, Desirae held out her hand, nodding fiercely at him, a big smile in place.  
  
"What?" he asked. "You don't want to drive, do you?" She nodded. "Oh, honey, I don't know....."  
  
But, she had already pried the keys away from him, and jumped into the driver's seat. Malcolm didn't have any choice but to follow his controlling daughter into the car.  
  
He put on his seatbelt, something he rarely did, and said, "Now, please drive slowly, Desirae."  
  
She cranked the car and drove onto the road. As she continued to drive, she tried to tune the radio to her favorite station, glancing at the other cars she passed occasionally. Frustrated when she couldn't figure out the radio, she began to focus all of her attention on it.  
  
Malcolm however put his whole attention into the road, in particular the brown Buick they were slowly moving toward.  
  
"Shit! Desirae!!" he yelled, grabbing the steering wheel and narrowly avoiding the oncoming traffic. The man driving the Buick honked at them as they passed.  
  
Satisfied that she had found her favorite station, Desirae turned up the volume and began to concentrate on driving again.  
  
When she heard, "--you cumin' out the side of your face. We tapping right into your memory banks—"she smiled ecstatically and patted Malcolm on the shoulder. This was her favorite song. She began to mouth the lyrics, and moved her shoulders to the beat. "But I know y'all wanted the 808 can you feel that B-A-S-S, bass. But I know y'all wanted the 808 can you feel that B-A-S-S, bass. I like the waaaay you move. I like the waaaay you move (Whoo- o-o!). I love the waaaay you move. I love the way, I love the way."  
  
Malcolm sighed. "I will never understand your culture. Hell, I barely understand mine."  
  
**  
  
NoV: Yayness for chappies that get done! (loves herself) 


	4. Take a Silver Sip

Voice of Desirae Part 4  
  
**  
  
*(Cutie Corner  
  
NoV: (cries) I think I'm getting sick. ;_;  
  
Bisho: She's been sniffling all day.  
  
NoV: AND coughing. (miffed)  
  
Bisho: Yes, that too.  
  
NoV: If I'm bedridden, will you nurse me back to health?  
  
Bisho: (quickly changes into a tight nurse's outfit with a short skirt) You mean like this?  
  
NoV: (ecstatic) EEEEEE! (cough)  
  
**  
  
Once Desirae merged onto the interstate, Malcolm began to feel calmer. She had stopped swerving when she paid attention to what she where she was going, and the ride had been fairly smooth for about three miles.  
  
"So," Malcolm said, having to shout over the sound of the wind, "do you know any good restaurants around here?"  
  
Desirae nodded and pointed to her temple.  
  
"Okay, I got it," Malcolm said, understanding. "You know."  
  
Suddenly, they hit a bad patch in the road, and Desirae recklessly tried to avoid several potholes, moving the car from side to side, briskly.  
  
"Woah, they need to fix that," Malcolm said.  
  
Desirae no longer felt like driving. In fact, she felt rather ill. Without warning, she pulled to the side of the road (luckily they weren't on a bridge at the time) and stopped the car.  
  
"What's wrong?" Malcolm said. "Why did you stop?"  
  
Breathing heavily, Desirae rubbed her stomach up and down, trying to tell him what was wrong.  
  
"What does that mean?" Malcolm asked. "Are you hungry? Well, honey, we're going to eat, so—"  
  
She shook her head, frantically, and rubbed it slowly up and down.  
  
"I don't understand," he admitted.  
  
All of a sudden, she bent over the driver's side door and vomited.  
  
"Oh, god!" Malcolm wailed, fearing for his car. "Why didn't you tell me you got carsick??"  
  
Desirae turned around long enough to shake her middle and second fingers at him. Then, she leaned back over the door, anticipating another vomiting spell.  
  
"You shouldn't drive if you get sick," he continued. "It's not safe."  
  
Feeling that her stomach had settled enough, Desirae leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. Malcolm got out of the car and walked around to the driver's side, glad to see that they weren't dangerously close to the fast-moving traffic. "Come on," he said, "I drive from here on out."  
  
**  
  
"Which way now?" Malcolm asked, as he drove down a two-lane road between tall, historic-looking buildings.  
  
Desirae pointed straight in front of the car.  
  
"Okay," he nodded." Just let me know when I need to turn."  
  
They passed by a small park. It didn't have much: only three or four picnic tables, a rusted slide, and a few swings. Only one father and his small son were there, throwing a baseball back and forth.  
  
How Malcolm longed to have had a boy.  
  
Finally, Desirae patted him on the shoulder and pointed to the left. Malcolm turned onto a one-way street that looked more like an alley than anything. She suddenly pointed at a blue building that was smaller than the apartment she lived in.  
  
Malcolm looked at the restaurant skeptically. Muffaletta's. Italian. "Desirae?" he said. "Are you sure this is a good place? It's not in the greatest neighborhood.....  
  
Desirae nodded vigorously. Malcolm sighed, and, reluctantly, got out of the car.  
  
**  
  
NoV: (sniffle) Bisho, sweetie, get me a tissue.  
  
Bisho: Okay. (hands her the box)  
  
NoV: Love you, love.  
  
Bisho: Poor NoV.  
  
NoV: Well, at least I got a chapter done—AH-CHOO! Bless me.  
  
Bisho: Gesundheit.  
  
NoV: I like German. (sniffle) Say some more.  
  
Bisho: Ich liebe diche, und Gott.  
  
NoV: Yay! More! (feels a sudden healing)  
  
Bisho: That's about it. (sheepish grin_  
  
NoV: (falls back into sickness) Oy.... 


	5. Scotch and Water

Voice of Desirae Part 5  
  
NoV: Well, I would have updated sooner, but you know the rules. At least one review if you want me to keep going.   
  
Bisho: She's a very strict author/tyrant.  
  
NoV: No, Bisho! That's spokesbouncer.  
  
Bisho: OH......I always forget.   
  
Xelloss: Like me! I'm a general priest!   
  
NoV: What are you doing here? This isn't your filter....  
  
Xelloss: It's not Bisho's either. (raises eyebrow)  
  
NoV: Bisho is a prisoner of war.  
  
Bisho: OH, sure. Use THAT old excuse.  
  
NoV: Onward!!  
  
Desirae practically had to drag Malcolm into the restaurant. He was still leery about the quality and location of the small bistro.  
  
As soon as she entered the very small room, she was greeted by a man possibly her own age standing behind the counter. "Yo, Desi!" he exclaimed, extending a hand for a high-five. "'Sup?"  
  
Malcolm, following closely behind her, vaguely noticed that there were only three tables in the dining area, and a kitchen behind the counter that was even smaller. "Desi?" he wondered aloud. "Do you....like to be called Desi?"  
  
Desirae nodded her approval and made an "O" with her fingers, signaling her okay.  
  
"All right, well, I know what the beautiful young lady will be having," the clerk announced, scribbling something on a notepad, "so, what about you, sir?"  
  
Malcolm quickly scanned the menu crudely hanging from the ceiling. "Um.....I'll have an Italian calzone."  
  
"Okay, sir, and what to drink with that?"  
  
"God.....do you happen to have any scotch?"  
  
"No sir, we do not serve alcohol here."  
  
Of course, you don't, Malcolm thought, but said, "Ice water, it is, then."  
  
"That'll be $18.35, sir," the clerk said, making the register ding a few times.  
  
"Do you take plastic?" Malcolm asked, pulling out a credit card.  
  
"No, sir, just paper."  
  
Malcolm, fed up with all the "sirs" that seemed to him to be sarcastic, tossed a twenty onto the counter and meekly followed Desirae toward a dimly- lit table.  
  
"Desi," he said, hiding his discord and disappointment of her choice of restaurants, "if the food's half as good as the service, I'll be a happy man."  
  
Desirae smiled her impish smile and gingerly touched his face, showing her delight of his approval.  
  
NoV: Part five DONE!! WEEE!  
  
Xelloss: Don't get TOO excited! Remember thy blood pressure!!  
  
Bisho: I'll get the thermometer!  
  
N&X: -.-0 


	6. Evacuation

Voice of Desirae Part 6  
  
NoV: Oya, oya.....summer is very heatalicious.  
  
Bisho: Heatalicious?  
  
NoV: Anywho, here's part 6!!   
  
Desirae was a quick eater, Malcolm noticed, as he nimbly cut and ate his cheesy calzone. She downed mouthful after mouthful of steaming spaghetti, pausing every once in a while to sip her soda.  
  
"It's better than I thought it would be," he mentioned, in a congratulatory manner. Though she nodded and smiled gracefully, he felt that he might be overcompensating her. Or maybe that was because she didn't reply to anything. He lay his plastic knife on the plate of half-eaten calzone and cleared his throat. "So.....do you.....go to school?"  
  
Desirae, already having cleaned her plate of any evidence of food, was ready to have a heart-to-heart with her father. She nodded.  
  
"Really? I see.....do you....like school?" Malcolm asked, feeling like a jerk for asking pathetic questions.  
  
She patted her cheek, and smiled. Then, she nodded. It was hard to tell when he was being serious.  
  
"That's great," he said. "Well....did Rachel, err, your mom ever tell you what I do for a living?"  
  
She shook her head. She smiled inwardly. It had been uncomfortable up until now that he hadn't seemed to want to divulge any of his "secrets." Ready to listen to any profession he would tell her about, she leaned back in her chair with a relieved sigh.  
  
He had already worked up a great speech about his career, starting with "_I work with numbers_," but took her sigh as a sign that she was bored and wanted to go home. So, instead, he said, "Well, I'm sure you've probably got homework to do.....want to get some ice cream on the way back?"  
  
Desirae tried not to show her disappointment and nodded, giving him a faint smile.

Malcolm walked Desirae up the stairs to her apartment. "I'm glad we got to spend some time together today. Now that I have your e-mail address, I can contact you more and more often," he said, rounding the corner to her residence.  
  
She smiled, and reached into her purse for her keys. She promised herself that she wouldn't cry until he had left her apartment and was driving off in his car. As she took a few steps into the living room, she stopped dead in her tracks and looked around, incredulously.  
  
Malcolm followed her inside and said, "What the hell?"  
  
All of the dirty clothes, the knickknacks, even some of the furniture were all gone. Pictures, magazines, the TV, all just disappeared. It was as if the room was unoccupied.  
  
He looked to Desirae for some sort of explanation, but she gave him none. Malcolm, with much more ease now than before since the floor was relatively clean, raced throughout the apartment, calling, "Rachel! Are you here?"  
  
He peeked into the kitchen, and nearly went to the next room. He did a double take when he noticed a white piece of copy paper pinned to the refrigerator with a cat magnet.  
  
The note was simple, and to the point with its haunting message.  
  
"_Now you know what it's like to be walked out on.  
  
Rachel_"  
  
Malcolm covered his face with a hand and turned around, nearly knocking Desirae over.  
  
She snatched the note out of his hand and studied it, curiously. Malcolm thought she might cry and throw a fit, until she turned away and ran into her room, her expression unreadable.  
  
"God.....god, god, god, god......" Malcolm repeated, bending over and laying his head on the counter. He laughed for a minute, in spite of himself, hoping he wasn't losing it.  
  
A banging sound alerted him of danger, and he ran back into the living room, to see Desirae hauling a very stuffed suitcase. She set it down in front of him, and smiled up at him.  
  
"No, Desirae," he said firmly. "You absolutely can't come home with me." He was steadfast in his argument. "My life is too busy and full for me to start taking care of a kid." He met her intense gaze. "I'm sorry. It's not my fault she walked out on you....." The letter suddenly came back to him, evocative and taunting him. "Now you know what it's like to be walked out on." Now he was left with the responsibility. He was left with everything he had left behind before.  
  
"Let's go."  
  
NoV: Yai! Chapter 6! 


	7. The Sarah Harding Guide to Parenting

Voice of Desirae Part 7  
  
--  
  
NoV: Woo! Part seven time!  
  
--  
  
"The only thing she'll eat for breakfast is cereal. I tried to take her out for waffles, but she wouldn't touch them! What kind of kid doesn't like waffles? She's funny like that in a lot of other ways too. Sometimes I feel like she's from another world! She won't eat chocolate. I don't know if it's because she doesn't like it or she's allergic to it or she's watching her weight......I left her home by herself. Is that wrong? I mean, what if she gets hurt?? She can't call for help or anything....maybe I should have brought her...." Ian Malcolm carried on, verging on hysteria.  
  
Sarah Harding reached over to him and placed a soft hand on his knee. "Easy, thumper," she said, trying to keep his leg from bouncing nervously off the floor.  
  
It had been three days since Malcolm had taken Desirae home with him. Lucky for him, he had been able to reach Sarah the one week out of that month when she was home in California. She had agreed to meet him at a quiet bistro in order to help "instruct him on parenting."  
  
"I don't know...." He sighed. "I just can't connect with her at all....."  
  
"You've got to learn to read the signs she gives you," Sarah insisted. "She's not stupid. She's not brain dead. She just talks a different language than most kids. Whether or not you know what she's telling you, she's going to need and want things. From what you've told me, she's got an independent streak a mile long, but she will be very dependant some of the time."  
  
"It would be so much easier if she'd just learn sign language," Malcolm said, tapping his fork against his barely-touched plate. "Then, I could learn too and I would be able to understand her."  
  
"I've thought about that," Sarah replied. "Making up her own body signs shows autonomy, but definitely not ignorance. You said she went to school?"  
  
"Yes. Said she likes it."  
  
"Did you ask her if it was a school for deaf kids?" she wondered.  
  
"No, I didn't," he admitted. "Never occurred to me."  
  
"I'm thinking that she went to a public school. Maybe with a special tutor."  
  
"Maybe I should contact the tutor," Malcolm said.  
  
"No, probably a bad idea," Sarah said. "It might make Desi resentful to know that you had to get help understanding her. I say just watch her body, and her face, for clues. If you try hard enough, you can make the connection."  
  
"I guess so...." he murmured. "Listen: I'm going out of town in two weeks to start my series of lectures in Ecuador. Can you take care of Desirae for me? I'll only be gone for three weeks, then the tour continues in Texas and I can take her with me."  
  
Sarah contemplated this. "No, I'm sorry. I go back to Africa on Monday to study lions. I definitely couldn't take her with me."  
  
He sighed. "I guess I'll have to find someone else, then."  
  
"Why don't you take her with you?" Sarah asked. "I bet she'd love to visit South America."  
  
"That's only as a last resort," he explained.  
  
"How do you think she'll feel if you start off your new relationship by dumping her off on someone she's never met, someone she doesn't like, someone who's cooking stinks...."  
  
"All right, all right," he grumbled. "I'll discuss it with her. But, if she doesn't want to go, I'm not going to make her."  
  
"Well, thanks for lunch," she said, standing up from her chair.  
  
"Hey," he called after her as she made her way to the door. "Why don't you take the rest of mine with you? I can't stand parmesan cheese."  
  
"Then why'd you order it?" she wondered, skeptically.  
  
"Didn't think it would be on ravioli."  
  
--  
  
NoV: Woo! SO much time so little.....happiness.....thanx for reviewing! 


	8. And You Don't Even Understand

Voice of Desirae Part 8  
  
--  
  
NoV: Well, minna-san (everyone) thanks for reviewing thus far! Sorry I haven't completely committed myself to this....but, I'm going to try harder, k?   
  
--  
  
Malcolm expertly unlocked his apartment door without making a sound. He slowly took in a breath and opened the door. He stepped inside and surveyed the room, closing the door behind him. Seeing that there appeared to have been no major crises since he had been gone, he ventured out of the foyer and into the main hallway.  
  
"Desirae?" he called through the silent walkway. "I'm back! You okay?"  
  
He heard the distinctive sound of knocking on the wall to his left and walked inside the room he kept his three business computers in.  
  
"Desi?" he wondered, squinting in the darkness of the room. He looked to the glow from a single desktop console and could make out his daughter's outline sitting poised in front of it.  
  
She waved merrily and pointed to the screen. He looked at what she was pointing at: it was a 3-D model of a pterodactyl he had been working to replicate. He sighed and covered his face with a hand. She had discovered his dinosaur computer.  
  
"You know, honey," he commented with a touch of brevity, "you really shouldn't mess around with my work computers. They have top secret information that you shouldn't get into."  
  
She was looking at him with a face that said, "You never explain anything."  
  
That was true. He still hadn't given her any insight to his work, his past, his exploits, his life in general. She had remained in the dark the whole time she had lived with him, and she had stayed, nevertheless. But, still, it wasn't like she had any choice. It wasn't like she could just go out into the world and get a job and support herself.  
  
With another tumultuous sigh, he gestured toward the door. "Come on in here. I have something I want to talk to you about."  
  
She followed him nimbly like an elf into the living room and sat down on the couch beside him. She fiddled with a fraying string on the bottom of her skirt and looked up at him expectantly.  
  
"Well," he clasped his hands together, turning his thoughts over in his head, "A week from Tuesday, I'm leaving for Ecuador to lecture on physical math. I'm going to be in Quito for three weeks before returning to the states. Then, I'm going to Houston to lecture there."  
  
She ran her finger along the design in the couch, confused at what he was trying to get across to her.  
  
"Originally," he continued, "I had planned for you to stay with my old friend Sarah Harding, but she's also going out of town." At this point, the two of them locked eyes with a tenderness that should have only been mastered through years of living together and finally coming to understand one another. "So, I've decided to let you choose what you want to do: I can either find another friend for you to stay with, or I can take you with me. Now, I have to tell you, you may find Ecuador kind of boring. The weather is always unpredictable and there isn't a lot to do other than watch Spanish soap operas in the hotel room."  
  
Without having to give her decision a second thought, Desirae flung her arms around her father and squeezed tightly. Releasing him, she made a motion pointing from the wall to the ground then to herself.  
  
Malcolm was understandably confused. "Does that mean you want to stay here?" he asked.  
  
Desirae's face grew significantly more morose. She shook her head and pointed at Malcolm.  
  
"Oh, so, I guess you want to go, then?" he said, not pleased with this decision.  
  
She nodded and the cheerfulness reappeared on her cheeks.  
  
Malcolm stood up and smiled, then left the room, leaving Desirae to begin plotting what she would pack for the trip.  
  
--  
  
NoV: YAY! Chapter eight is over! WOO!! 


	9. Face the Music

Voice of Desirae Part 9  
  
--  
  
NoV: Oh-kay! Here's part 9! Don't forget to leave a review, please!   
  
--  
  
The Tuesday before Ian Malcolm and his daughter Desirae were to leave for Ecuador, she faced a problem. Most of her clothes only consisted of different-length skirts and one pair of worn jeans that were getting too small for her. This posed a problem as it would be hard to travel wearing skirts all the time. And, if she was going to try hiking on Mount Chimborazo, a skirt would definitely not do her any good. She desperately needed some new clothes, and was sure that her now dearly-devoted father would buy her some if she could only get her point across to him.  
  
She approached Malcolm while he was reading an editorial on Ecuadorian tourist attractions. He looked up from his reading and said, "Afternoon, Desirae. Did you want to eat out tonight, or shall I cook for us?"  
  
She smiled politely and shook her head. She sat next to him on the couch, held a handful of her knee-length blue skirt, and shook it. She then released the skirt and drew a circle around her ankles with her index fingers.  
  
Malcolm, genuinely confused, asked, "You want to go dancing?"  
  
Desirae patted her cheek, smiling, and then shook her head. She got up and ran into her room, which Malcolm had converted from his exercise equipment room, and came back into the den with the blue jeans she had grown out of. She looked around the floor for a minute, and sat down beside him again carrying a plastic grocery store bag.  
  
Malcolm was now trying very hard to make the connection and watched her every move intently. First, she held up the jeans against her waist and put a hand around her throat, as if to choke herself. She laid the jeans to the side of the couch. Desirae then reached into the laundry basket and grabbed a pair of Malcolm's jeans. She held out her palm and rubbed her thumb against the rest of her fingers. After that, she put his jeans in the plastic bag and smiled expectantly.  
  
Malcolm looked at her with interest for a moment or two. She hoped against hope that he knew what she wanted for once. He smiled and said, "We could both use some new clothes. Let's go to the mall."  
  
--  
  
--  
  
Upon entrance to the enormous shopping plaza, Desirae immediately pulled Malcolm over to her favorite store, a very feminine cutesy store called Minnie's. Abandoning her father as soon as she made it inside, the teen began picking through racks searching for her sizes.  
  
Malcolm tried his best not to touch anything terribly pink or ruffly. He kept his focus on trying to locate items that Desirae might be interested in. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see his daughter, her arms laden with the very kind of clothes he had tried his best to stay away from. She pointed toward a row of three dressing rooms and pattered off to try on her newfound treasures.  
  
Malcolm sighed, having known that this sort of thing would take place. He made his way past the clothing fixtures and knocked on the door of the dressing room Desirae had disappeared into. Immediately afterward, she knocked back, he assumed to keep anyone from entering.  
  
"It's just me, Desi," he said, leaning his back against the door. "Listen, don't you think you should be looking for clothes more suited for travel? I mean, the ones you picked look nice, but what you really need are some clothes that are made to move around and climb and all. I saw you looking through the magazines at rock climbing. If you want to do that sort of thing, you'll have to get clothes that can take wear and tear.....oh, and you'll need a bathing suit. The hotel has a pool and you'll want to swim when it's not raining."  
  
He listened to the unlocking of the door. Desirae stepped cautiously out in her own clothes and smiled faintly.  
  
"Let's go to the sportswear store," Malcolm suggested.  
  
--  
  
NoV: YAI! Well, that's another one down. . Listen up, peeps! If you have any suggestions, comments, or criticisms, feel free to tell me! I'm open to anything!  
  
Lo e (Love NoV) 


	10. Voiceless It Cries

Voice of Desirae Part 10  
  
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NoV: HELLO! Just one more chapter to slow us down, and I promise it'll get faster. I just wanted to expose Desirae's inner-workings a little, but I know everyone's anxious to see them on the island! Plus, usually people tell me to slow down, so I didn't want to breeze through it and leave everyone clueless about the characters' motivations. . Anyway, without further ado—  
  
--  
  
Darkness.....darkness everywhere....she kept running through the darkness, but it was like swimming through a murky lake.....she couldn't see anything anywhere.....  
  
Then, suddenly, she was somewhere....brighter.....very bright. She had to shield her eyes from the intensity of the sun....or whatever it was.  
  
A lone figure. Standing out in the middle of green....almost like some kid had finger-painted green around the person. The brightness emanated from behind the figure, shrouding the features in darkness.  
  
A garbled sound was coming from the person. She knew they were words....it was as if she were too far away to hear what was being said....  
  
Then, a strikingly larger figure stepped forward, blocking out the light. And, then, immediately, she knew who the first figure was. And, though it was slightly out of place (or at least it should have been), she knew what the larger figure was, and what it wanted.  
  
She began to run forward toward the two figures, yet at the same time, seemed glued to the place where she stood. She strained with all the effort she could manage to make a sound, any sound come out of her mouth, but it was all in vain. The larger creature bent over and devoured the first creature, and the whole world around her turned red.  
  
--  
  
Desirae sat up in perpetual darkness. She was breathing heavily and her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. She placed one of her dainty hands under her collarbone, attempting to calm herself.  
  
Hearing a noise from the window at her bedside, she drew the blanket up to her neck in fear. She slowly pulled back the curtain to see through a tiny crack what was happening outside the window. She saw the fleeting furry tail of an alley cat.  
  
She lay back down in her bed, trying to reassure herself. Her father's snoring in the next room helped to comfort her that all was okay.  
  
After all, she should be rejoicing, not panicking. The next morning they were going to Ecuador! Her first real vacation, complete with a swimming pool, a jacuzzi, and room service. She would get to ride in a helicopter for the first time, and then an ocean liner! She thought with bliss about the soon to be warm weather, cool, refreshing water, and fulfilling activity.  
  
Her thoughts drifted to her new wardrobe, part of which she was wearing at the time. She needed to wear her traveling clothes to bed since they had to leave for the air base at 4:30 a.m. She looked toward the neon glow of her alarm clock. 2:19 a.m. Only two more hours of sleep, she thought.  
  
And so, the voiceless girl drifted back to sleep, hoping that she wouldn't have to endure any more nightmares this night.  
  
--  
  
NoV: See? I hurried on ahead....I still had a little more I wanted to do: a series of nightmares, leading up to this one; a falling out between the father and daughter, but I think this pretty much tackled what I wanted. I hope no one's interest was deferred because of the speed of the fic. :( I'm trying to get used to writing, honestly, and I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter! More fun to come in the next, you can be sure!   
  
Lo e 


	11. Wingless It Flutters

Voice of Desirae Part 11  
  
--  
  
NoV: Well, I'm really sorry it's taken me so long to get this part up! My other computer died on me, but now I've got a new one so you can expect sooner, better updates! Ciao!  
  
--  
  
The whirring engines and fast-moving blades of the helicopter made a lot of noise, not lost on Malcolm, who was trying his best to convey a message to his daughter. Desirae was sitting across from him, enchanted by the scenery passing beneath them.  
  
"--to Baja California!" Malcolm yelled over the unnerving noise around them. "From there, we're taking the ocean liner to Ecuador! We would take the helicopter all the way, but we'd have to stop for fuel so often that it would be a waste of time," he finished, wondering if Desirae had heard a single word he'd said.  
  
She was nodding, but still looking out the window, as they passed over a rural, dusty area. She pressed her face against the glass, straining to see what looked like a cow.  
  
Malcolm decided to just give up. It wasn't as if their rendezvous points were crucial for her to know. He decidedly leaned back into the hot, leather seat and closed his eyes while listening to the whirring above him.  
  
--  
  
The helicopter landed two hours later on a landing pad at the La Paz airport. Malcolm thanked the pilot for the safe flight and directed Desirae toward the entrance into the terminal.  
  
After checking in with the customs desk, Malcolm flagged down a cab, and they were on their way to the seaport.  
  
Desirae was fairly certain that this city reminded her a lot of downtown L.A. A lot of buildings snugly together, harsh traffic, hundreds of pedestrians. Was this what Ecuador would be like as well?  
  
"Want to stop for lunch?" Malcolm asked. "I don't know how good the food on the boat will be."  
  
Desirae smiled and nodded. Malcolm directed the cab driver to a restaurant called El Molino. The driver pulled to the side, practically on the curb. Desirae stepped out of the cab, followed by her father, who paid the driver and followed her inside.  
  
"Hola, hola!" a man greeted them when they walked inside the dimly-lit restaurant/bar. "Dos?" he asked.  
  
"Si," Malcolm answered. He and Desirae followed the man to a table by the bar. To his daughter, he said, once they had sat down. "Show me what you want on the menu, and I'll order it for you, okay?" he offered.  
  
Desirae nodded, but stared in confusion at the menu. Spanish was not her forte.  
  
--  
  
NoV: Yay! Another chapter!! Do you guys think this one slowed us down? I kinda feel like it did....oh well, I guess! Til nexties!! 


	12. Toothless It Bites

Voice of Desirae part 12  
  
--  
  
NoV:   
  
--  
  
An hour later, Ian Malcolm and his daughter, Desirae, were standing on the dock, ready to board the ship, El Fuerte. The captain stepped down from the ship to greet them.  
  
"Hola, mis amigos! How are you today? Good day for to travel to South America, huh?" he exclaimed. "Here, I'll take your bags!" Malcolm gladly handed over his pale green suitcase, but Desirae shook her hand when the skipper offered to carry her backpack. "Okay," the man said, understandingly, "I'll show you your bunks, then."  
  
He lead Malcolm and Desirae to two adjoining rooms in the bowels of the ship. Desirae took in her room, curiously. One bed, a closet, and a kerosene lamp on a wooden chest. She was thinking, How simple, when Malcolm knocked on her door.  
  
"Want to see the cast-off?" he asked, passively.  
  
She nodded the affirmative and followed him to the deck of the ship.  
  
As the father and daughter watched the city grow smaller and smaller in the distance, Malcolm gave a narrative of the ship and its departure: "This is a cargo ship, taking corn and wheat to Ecuador. It will return with coffee that has been shipped to Ecuador from Brazil. We were lucky to have gotten a ride with them. I've known the captain for a few years now, so that helped too. We would have taken a cruise ship, but the next to leave only stops in Chile and a few of the islands off the coast. If we could get them to stop in Ecuador at all, we'd have to book another cruise back to California. So, you can see my logic. The captain agreed to take us back on his next run, two weeks from now."  
  
Desirae, enchanted by her father's casual words, watched the ocean waves lap against the side of the ship as they passed through them effortlessly.  
  
"So," he continued, "we'll arrive in three days. You brought your computer, right?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Good. That way you won't get too bored." He smiled. "Well, I'm going to go rest in my room for a little while. Feel free to walk around the ship, or whatever you like." He disappeared down the stairs.  
  
Desirae thought that the ocean was the most peaceful and strong thing she had ever seen. She hoped that in the future it would symbolize her relationship with her father.  
  
-- NoV: Well, that's another one. Hope you liked it! Next time, the storm of the century strikes El Fuerte!! 


	13. Mouthless It Mutters

Voice of Desirae part 13  
  
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NoV: Sorry I haven't updated for a while, but I got sidetracked with another fic I'm working on. Hopefully I'll be able to find a way to balance the two so no one has to wait too long..... Okay! Here goes!  
  
--  
  
Desirae sat in a chair on the deck of the ship, her computer resting in her lap. She was wearing her headphones and listening to a song that she had recently downloaded. The silent girl was nearly half-asleep when someone tapped her on the arm. She looked up into the face of one of the crewmen. He was saying something to her urgently, and pointing to a dark cloud in the distance.  
  
She took off her headphones. "—below the decks now!" he was telling her. "It's too dangerous out here!"  
  
She nodded when she noticed the gray stormy clouds in the distance, and, grabbing her bag and computer, raced to the stairwell.  
  
Once at hers and her father's rooms, she entered her own and placed her belongings on the lonely bed. She had the presence of mind to turn off the kerosene lamp and set it on the floor. She knew how liable they were to set things on fire if knocked over.  
  
Desirae decided to check on her father. She went out into the hallway, and immediately was doused in a blast of water. She frantically knocked on Ian's door. Mumbling and moving sounds could be heard from inside the room.  
  
"Desi?" Malcolm wondered, when he opened the door. "Why are you wet? Why is the boat wet? Is it storming?"  
  
She nodded, vigorously. The captain flew down the stairs and yelled, "Get in the lifeboats, now!! We're taking on water! The last big wave knocked a hole in our side! We're going to try and get the cargo onto lifeboats, too! Go! Go!"  
  
Malcolm held onto Desirae's arm and pulled her up the stairs. She tried desperately to free herself, wanting to get her belongings. Her father was relentless, and wouldn't let her go back, though.  
  
When they made it to the deck, another crewman directed them to a small blue boat on the side of the ship. Malcolm all but lifted Desirae into the lifeboat before climbing in himself. The dropped the boat into the tumultuous ocean below and ran off to continue to help save the cargo before El Fuerte sank into the sea forever.  
  
Desirae and her father could do nothing more than hang on for their lives as they watched the unforgiving water pound against the boat while the soaked crew hurried to save the freight.  
  
--  
  
NoV: Cliffy!!! AAAAHHH!! Tune in next time! 


	14. It Whines in the Trees

Voice of Desirae Part 14 

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NoV: Well, I started school this week, so updates are bound to come later and later....sorry. ï

--

Desirae had fallen asleep, her head lying against her father's shoulder. Malcolm sighed. He was certain that he was going to get heatstroke out here in the middle of the ocean. And if not, they would both have a severe sunburn. The little boat didn't offer much refuge from the relentless sun high overhead.

But, as the situation was, beggars could not be choosers.

He wondered what had happened to the ship and its crew. The last he and Desirae had seen of it, the tiny specks were still rushing around trying to save the tiny boat. Then, the ocean currents had pulled them out of the boat's line of sight.

It had been hours since they had seen a boat, a person, or land.

Malcolm knew that if he kept watching the waves, bouncing the boat toward some unknown faraway place, he would be sick. He knew that if he looked instead at the sky, he would go blind from the white sun blaring down on him. So, instead, he kept his gaze focused on his slumbering daughter.

Desirae was slightly drooling, but thankfully it was onto the boat. Her tan cargo pants were too long for her and kept most of her shoes hidden. She wore a plain, V-neck pink t-shirt made cheerful by an opal-colored necklace. Her golden hair was blown into her face by the wind, making her wrinkle her small nose. Malcolm, in one of his first fatherly gestures toward his quiet daughter, pulled the hair out of her face and behind her ear.

Moments later, he fell into a light sleep as well.

Desirae woke up sometime later, squinting in the bright sunlight. Her head was lying atop her father's bony shoulder, his muscular arm crunched beneath her back. She smiled, knowing that whatever situation they might endeavor, he would always be there to protect her. She wouldn't trade anything in the world for her recently found dad. She studied him carefully, trying to remember everything she could about him. He wore a black button-up shirt with black trousers and belt. He was very quirky about his clothes. He had said something about matching problems, but she didn't really care to know too much about his fashion sense. His black hair seemed to be molded onto his scalp in the certain way that he combed it everyday.

Despite all his quirks and abnormalities that made some people question his scientific know-how, Desirae loved her father with all her heart. She remembered the first time she had seen him that he smelled like spearmint and leather. It was a smell that she couldn't forget. He was her haven.

--

NoV: Well, there's part fourteen!


End file.
